


Trick or Treat

by Okmeamithinknow



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Halloween AU, Pointless fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, you're all welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8454046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okmeamithinknow/pseuds/Okmeamithinknow
Summary: Cassian takes Nesta to a haunted house. Fun and hilarity ensue. Modern Halloween AU





	

“It was a dark and stormy night…” 

“Boring,” a voice singsongs, "Every scary story told at every eight year olds’ first sleep over starts that way, Cas.”

“Not the way I tell it.” Cassian laughs, low and menacing and wiggles his eyebrows at his girlfriend in the passenger seat. Nesta can’t help but snicker at his attempt to be creepy. It doesn’t work, but she’s learned to humor him. 

“You’re going to have to try harder,” she tells him, patting his shoulder gently. “That troupe is about as old as you are old man.”

“I’m three years older than you,” he grumbles.

“Three years is a very long time,” she insists. “Especially in cat years.” Nesta adds somberly, gesturing to the ears atop her head. “And even more considering the last of your kind died out thousands of years ago.”

Cassian chuckles, and grabs the hand closest to him. The other hand on the steering wheel, he laces his fingers with hers and strokes the back of her hand. Familiar calluses scrape against her skin and she gives him a soft smile. He smiles back at her, his grin far wider than hers.

It’s still a half hour until dusk, and they’re on their way to one of the local haunted houses, Cassian’s idea, not Nesta’s. If she had her way they’d be at home, pumpkins carved, seeds roasting in the oven, and the two of them cuddled up on the couch watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. But no, her boyfriend insisted, insisted, that the two of them visit a haunted house. Tradition, he’d said, it was their tradition, and they’d yet to go to one this year. 

“Remind me again why you’re dressed as a caveman?” she asks, eyeing the leopard printed fur strap that’s sitting on one shoulder. It’s not very thick, covering the bare minimum of what’s socially acceptable for exposed skin.

“Well how else was I supposed to show these off?” Cassian asks, flexing his bicep taking her hand with it. “And you call me a neanderthal enough times that of course of I have to be a caveman. Besides, I don’t hear you complaining.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but silently agrees. Nesta thoroughly enjoys the way the garment shows off her favorite parts of his assets, and she can’t help being thankful that the weather’s been unseasonably warm this year. Cassian, with his long hair and tattooed torso looks mouthwateringly delicious. She’s not going to tell him that, not without making it a backhanded compliment at least.

They’re about five minute away, and she says, “You know what, I changed my mind. I don’t want to go.”

“Aw come on, fraidy cat. You know I’ll keep you safe,” he squeezes her hand gently.

“I had nightmares for a week straight after last year and couldn’t sleep without the light on. I still have nightmares about that damn cauldron from that one room,” she says with a shudder.

He turns into the parking lot and pulls into the nearest parking space. Unbuckling his seatbelt Cassian turns to face Nesta. He brushes a finger just above where she’s painted whiskers onto her cheekbones in thick lines of dark kohl. It’s a tender gesture, one of many that he’s showered on her since the two have started dating. It’s also one that she’ll meet with a scowl and the warning to not smudge her makeup, but he knows that deep down she loves it.

“Yeah well everything worked out in the end right? It got me into bed with you,” he winks at her.

“Only cause I couldn’t sleep without someone else in the room, you prick,” 

“You’re saying that you were just using me,” he says with false indignation.

“If the shoe fits,” Nesta replies with a smirk. 

His reply is a smirk of his own. Cassian presses a quick kiss to her forehead before opening the door and circling around to the other side of the truck. He doesn’t have to open the door for her, and she doesn’t expect him to, but the chivalrous gesture is something deeply ingrained in him. She’ll scowl and insist that she can do it on her own, doesn’t need a man to do things for her. But its a long practiced dance the two have been doing since before they’d started dating and neither one is about to change it.

“I don’t think I told you how amazing you look,” Cassian says, after she climbs out of the truck and he shuts the door behind her. 

“No, you haven’t.” The acerbic chide is playful, well playful for her. “And what a shame.” 

Nesta heads towards the entrance, and she realizes after a short time that her steps are the only crunch of gravel she hears. Stopping she counts to three before looking back at him. He’s definitely checking out her ass, and Nesta could feel his gaze burning a hole in the black leather pants she’s wearing.

“Drool much?” she asks, her tone derisive.

Cassian’s long legs eat up the space between them and he throws an arm over her shoulders with an easy grace. The two continue walking. 

“You know where else this outfit would look good?” he asks, squeezing her shoulder. 

“If you say on your bedroom floor Cas,” she growls, shrugging his arm off, “I swear to the Mother and all that is holy I will knee you so hard in the balls, and leave you for dead.” 

The comment raises a few chuckles from their fellow revelers, but not as much as Cassian’s bellowing laugh. It reverberates through his chest, and Nesta huffs at him. The line goes fast, and Cassian does his best to keep Nesta irritated and focused everywhere but on the scares to come. She still can’t believe that she let herself get talked into this for the second year in a row. At least this haunted house didn’t allow any of the cast members to touch you. 

Last year had been quite literally a horror show. Her sister Feyre, recently married and wanting to forge friendships with her sisters and the group of friends she’d adopted as her new family, invited Nesta out to a local haunt. They’d had to sign wavers, wavers, and Nesta should have known better. The second one of the ghouls grabbed her leg, she’d let out an ear-piercing shriek, and latched onto the nearest warm body. To her horror, and secret delight, that body had been Cassian. He’d joked that if Nesta wanted to hold his hand, all she had to do was ask. She’d maintained that it had been her intention all along, and claimed his hand for the rest of the night. It had been the spark to a flame that after a year, had yet to die down.

That Cassian wants to repeat the episode, Nesta figures is equal parts sweetly sentimental and sadistic.

Soon enough they reach the front of the line, and Cassian pats the sides of his loincloth, smirking at Nesta. She groans and rolls her eyes at his over-dramatic playacting, and pulls out cash for the attendant who’s dressed like a reanimated corpse. The zombie give her the change and brushes it’s hand, the hand decorated with oozing sores and flaking skin, against hers. Shuddering, she shoves the change into a pocket, and surreptitiously scoots closer to Cassian. But of course he notices.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Cassian says, and he’s patronizing her now. It’s painfully obvious, the taunting dripping from his voice like the blood from the eye socket of the gatekeeper waiting to let them into the building. He grabs Nesta’s hand, reassuring her that he’ll protect her, but she shakes free of his grasp. “Not like anything’s gonna scare me,” he adds, “I’ve killed a man.” 

“Paintball and video games don’t count, Cas,” she grumbles, but they both know he’s serious. The former solider is plagued with nightmares of his own, and while hers are merely the fantasies of an overactive imagination, his stem from real life. 

Her pulse is racing, and she’s ready to just admit defeat, too scared already. But it’s too late to turn back now as the gatekeeper ushers them into the first section. The door shuts, bathing the room in darkness.  It's a piercing and crystalline darkness, one that's deceptively black as if she could just put her hand out in front of her to see it. Instead it renders her blind. Nesta instinctively reaches behind her for Cassian’s hand. It’s there in a blink, as if it’s always been waiting for her to take, and somehow it feels smug. 

His _hand_ is _smug_. 

So is the chuckle that resonates through the room, and since Nesta can’t reach his neck to strangle him, she settles for that hand, latching on with a death-like grip that would make a boa constrictor jealous and leaves her white knuckled and seething. Which she guesses is a good enough distraction from the discordant music being piped in over the loud speakers. A voice speaks of it’s death and that’s when the front end of a car comes barreling at them. Nesta doesn’t make a sound, but her grip on his hand tightens. Calluses scrape against soft skin with familiar comfort.

On and on they go, through rooms, dressed in the trappings of classic scenes of horror and gore. Each room Nesta finds herself drawing closer to Cassian, and each time Cassian reassures her that ‘real war is much scarier than this’, that ’he’s seen everything’, and most infuriating ‘don’t worry Nesta your big strong man will protect you’ until the third to last room. She’s practically in his arms by then, her back pressed against his nearly bare chest, and she’s equal parts fuming and frightened. A sarcophagus lies in the center of the room, and Nesta _knows_ that a mummy lies in wait inside of it. Cassian nudges her forward and she glares at him.

“I hate you so much,” she says and then turns back, only to see that the mummy has risen from it’s tomb and is close enough that she can feel it’s breath on her cheek. 

It growls and she screams, leaping back. There’s something under her foot and she dances away, assuming it’s some sort of rat or prop or really just hopes to the Mother that it is. Only to realize that it’s Cassian’s foot and he’s wincing, because even though his petite girlfriend doesn’t weigh much, she’s got enough force behind her step to seriously bruise his toe. Cassian waves her off, because he’s had worse, and after all he’s subjecting her to this, so it’s entirely his fault.

A brief moment of hesitancy passes, until she takes his hand again, offering him a gentle consoling squeeze. Cassian waits until the ghoul guide’s back is turned before kissing her cheek. She’s not one for public displays of affection, but he feels the need to let her know that he’s fine and doesn’t blame her. She tucks herself into his chest and his arms come up automatically wrapping her in a quick hug. Cassian buries his face into the crook of her neck, pressing another kiss into the bare skin he finds there. 

“I’m sure we’re almost done,” he tells her. “Then we can go home and do whatever you want to do, ok?”

She nods, and then pulls herself from his embrace. Leaving their fingers intertwined she presses on make it through one more room, and as she nearly drags him through the threshold of the last room, Cassian feels a tap on his shoulder. He quickly spins, eyes widening at the horror behind him. Cassian lets loose the most ear-piercing feminine scream Nesta has ever hear, and it’s all he can do to stay on his feet as he throws himself behind Nesta. His normally towering height huddled behind her petite frame.

The guide opens the door to the exit and Cassian throws himself through it and out into the parking lot. Breath coming in great gulps and gasps, he leans on his knees. Nesta walks through the door much more sedately and bends down to face him.

“Seriously?” she scoffs.

“Um yeah, clowns are scary,” he says between gasps. His face is pale and sweat like he’s forced himself out of a particularly bad dream, so she knows there’s more to it than he’s letting on. He mutters something about clowns and his eighth birthday party and not wanting to talk about it.

“Oh just wait,” she says, fighting to hold back her laughter.

“What do you mean?” Cassian asks, eyes narrowing at her.

“Wait until Az and Rhys find out…” A series of menacing giggles burst from her. “…and Mor. They’re never going to let you live that down.”

Fear flashes in his eyes briefly at the feline smile that graces her lips. “You wouldn’t…” 

“I would, unless someone gave me the right incentive,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows at him at the same suggestive manner that he’d given her in the truck.

“Cuddles and The Nightmare Before Christmas, Beetlejuice, and The Addams Family? Followed by that one thing you like?”

“Deal,” she says, offering him a hand up. Cassian grins, tucking her underneath his shoulder and the two head home to live scarily ever after.

 


End file.
